A Taste of What Angel Had
by ThrowDownTheKey
Summary: They were so perfect together. Their relationship was the envy of the group. Mark loved seeing them together, as they were the perfect couple. Years later, he looks back on what Angel had.


A Taste of What Angel Had

_Mark needed them. Well, he didn't need them per say, he needed them together. They were so perfect for each other. A perfect example of what true love looks like. In fact, the whole group of friends needed them. Throughout the hard months, they were the only constant. The only thing that was guaranteed in their changing circle of friends was that Collins and Angel would be together. And Mark needed that constant in his life. He feared the day when something would happen to either one of them, and that guarantee would disappear. _

_ "__What'cha thinking about, Markie?" Angel came and sat next to the filmmaker on the couch. _

_Mark had one eye in his camera, viewing the footage from Life Support that morning. Without looking up at Angel, he said, "Oh, not much." _

_Angel looked like she was about to say something else, when Collins walked in the door. Once he saw Angel sitting on the couch, he threw open his arms and bellowed, "Angelcake!"_

_She hopped off the green sofa and flew into his open arms, squealing delightedly. Mark smiled softly. Angel was in heels, making her just around one inch shorter than Collins. Their bodies fit perfectly together, Collins' arms were the perfect length to wrap around Angel's waist, and her's exactly right to slip over his head. Collins then pulled her into a passionate kiss, and Mark noticed something else. Collins' lips were just a smidge bit bigger than Angel's, giving him just the perfect amount of dominance over the young drag queen. Angel's slender hips pressed against Collins playfully, making the anarchist smile._

_Collins looked over his shoulder, "Hey Mark, what are you doing here?" Collins asked._

_Mark sat up, "Oh, just talking to Angel. I'll leave you two alone…" Mark started to reach for his jacket on the kitchen table, but Angel stopped him._

_ "__You don't have to leave, Mark! Stay as long as you want," she said, motioning for him to sit back down._

_Collins groaned and muttered, "You and your damn hospitality." Collins had other things on his mind, things that didn't include the blonde camera man. _

_Mark shrugged, "Your boyfriend begs to differ."_

_Angel rolled her eyes, "Stay." _

_Mark sat back down on the couch next to Collins, who was lighting a joint. As he took a smoke, Angel sat down in between the two boys, stretching her legs over Collins' knees. _

_Then she took his cigarette and placed it between her soft pink lips, taking a short breath, and then handing it back to Collins. Mark thought that was so cute, how she was the only one Collins would let take his joints. And how she always only took one or two short breaths, like the only reason she was smoking was to share it with Collins. _

_ "__What are you staring at, Mark?" Collins asked bluntly._

_Mark snapped out of it, and realized he had been staring at the two of them._

_He began to mutter something, when Angel interrupted. "He was thinking about us," she said, "weren't you Markie?"_

_Mark could feel his cheeks immediately getting red, the embarrassment filling his face. Collins looked concerned, "What?" he asked._

_ "__No…" Mark stuttered. "No, I wasn't."_

_Angel just looked at him and winked. Then she whispered in Collins' ear, just loud enough so Mark could purposely hear, "He thinks we're perfect for each other."_

_Mark knew. Angel didn't say it, but Mark knew she knew. Angel could see right through Mark, and he knew it. Angel knew he was lonely, and he longed to find the girl he fit perfectly with, his one true love. Angel knew Mark wanted what she and Collins had, a soulmate. _

"Mark!"

"Yeah, honey?" he called down the hallway.

"I'm going to put Angelica to bed, so you can have some time to yourself," I said. I knew what he was doing. This always happened on Halloween, we'd take our seven year old daughter trick or treating, and then he'd spend the rest of the night locked up in his studio. He'd told me about her, the woman we'd named our daughter after, how selfless, compassionate, forgiving, and loving she was. But that was always it. I knew he had footage of her, and all of his friends from his "glory days." But he'd never shown them to me. I figured it was personal, too sad. I knew he missed them dearly, and the two that were still alive he couldn't get in touch with. I let him have just this one day of the year, this one day when he, I'm sure, watched all of his old videos of them, and remembered the memories he'd spent his life trying to forget about. So he could move on. But he never did. These people had made him the person he was today, the person I fell in love with, so in a way I'll always be indebted to these people. Even though I doubt he'll ever tell me about them. If he does, I know it will hurt him. It hurts him to remember. Because remembering when they were here, makes you remember that they aren't anymore.

Mark's eyes skimmed over the footage that he'd watched over, and over, and over. By now, he knew which videos he could handle, and the ones that would trigger the tears. He didn't know why he still did this. It hurt, it hurt so much to remember. But he felt like it was his duty to watch them, to pay tribute to Angel, Collins, Roger, and Mimi, the friends that he had loved so much, that were gone too soon.

Then, he saw something new. A video he hadn't watched yet, if that was even possible. The tape was crammed inside another tape's box, the one that contained the Life Support footage from Christmas 1898. He curiously pressed play, and the film started rolling.

It was Collins and Angel's apartment. Mark could see their old, ratty, green couch. The image shook slightly, before it came to a focus. Angel then walked in front of the camera, and sat on the couch. She was in drag, in her pretty black wig and a bubblegum pink pair of dyed overalls. The jean material was bedazzeled, as Angel used to say, as it was covered in glitter and sparkly buttons.

"Hi Markie!" her voice rang clear, and perky as always. "I just wanted to say something. Something, well, meaningful. But now that I got down to it, I don't know what to say. How do you say it? Well Markie, I'm dying. I haven't told Collins yet, I don't know how. I just needed to tell someone. And, well, your camera was lying on our counter, you forgot it yesterday, so I thought I'd try it out. And honey, I now know why you love this thing. It's so much fun!"

Mark stifled a small smile through the tears that were flowing down his face. Angel continued, "I just wanted to tell you, I hope you find love. And I know you will. Oh! And ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS protect yourself! Don't get AIDS Mark!" Angel laughed, "No day but today!"

Then a door shut in the background of her video, and soon Collins was seen swooping Angel up in his arms. She was laughing, and Collins was beaming. They nuzzled their noses together, just before Angel's hand reached over to shut the camera off. Mark smiled sadly. It was the perfect Collins and Angel moment. Then the tears starting slipping from the filmmaker's eyes.

"They're together," I said slowly.

"What?" my husband spun around cautiously in his swivel chair. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes.

"They're together in heaven, I know it," I said, wiping one of his tears away with my thumb. "They're watching you."

Mark smiled, "How long have you been standing there?" he asked me.

"A while," I said, sitting on the floor next to him. "Can you tell me about them? Your friends?"

He nodded, and pushed in another tape. Just then, our son walked in. "Mommy? I'm thirsty," he looked over at his dad, "why's Daddy crying?" he asked.

Mark picked up his son and set him on his lap. "It's okay Davis, I'm just kind of sad," he said.

"Don't be sad Daddy. I can write you a song! I'll write you a happy song, and I can play it on my guitar, then you don't have to be sad," Davis said. Mark pushed the thick, blonde bangs out of Davis' eyes and hugged the boy tight. Then he put his son back on the floor, and sent him to the kitchen.

I went with him to get a glass of water, and as I poured the cool liquid into a sippy-cup, I began to think. The only way he would ever be able to be at rest with his memories would be to talk about them. And I think I was finally ready to hear.

"And that's Angel," he said, pointing the beautiful girl in the Santa outfit that was spinning across the floor. "That's from the day I first met her. She and Collins, well, they were soul mates. Perfect for each other." Images flashed on the screen, Collins holding Angel, them laughing, playing together, holding hands in the park.

"What happened?" I asked.

Mark choked up, his throat clogging up with tears. "Umm… Angel- she uh."

I put a hand on his knee, to let him know it was okay. "She," he continued, "she died. Got pneumonia, and umm… she had AIDS too. Collins died like, two years later. On the same day she did."

I nodded sadly. "That's romantic. At least they're together again," I said.

"Yeah. When Angel died, Collins stopped living. He pretended to be okay, pretended to move on. But I could tell he was just wearing a mask. He died happy, knowing he was going to be with her again. None of us were really sad that he was gone, it wasn't right, them not being together. So we couldn't be sad, because they were together again," Mark said.

"Do you think you have what they have?" I asked.

"Yeah," he put his arm around me lovingly. "I know I do."

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